


All Our Tomorrows

by marlee813



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Coda, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 21:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marlee813/pseuds/marlee813
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With no way back through the portal, can Spock find safety before he freezes to death? And who is this hooded figure with familiar hazel eyes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Our Tomorrows

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [happy_trekmas](http://happy-trekmas.livejournal.com) where my recipient asked for a redo of, in my opinion, one of the best TOS episodes out there: All Our Yesterdays. Enjoy!

****

“Each tape contains a moment, a time, a location in history,” Mr. Atoz explained carefully, touching each drawer with reverence as he flitted about the room with practiced ease. “Captain Spock,” Mr. Atoz continued, “what part of history excites you most?”

Spock ignored Doctor McCoy’s stifled laugh and instead turned to face Mr. Atoz, who held several circular discs in his hands. “Excites, Mr. Atoz?” Spock asked, puzzled, “while reading about history is a fascinating endeavor, I would not say that any part of history in particular would be _exciting_ as you so put it.”

“Very well,” Mr. Atoz acquiesced, beckoning Spock over with a curled finger, “I guess you must learn as I once did. Come.”

“Sir,” Spock interjected, “while I appreciate what you are willing to show me, Starfleet has been sent here to make sure everyone is safely evacuated from Sarpeidon. You _are_ aware that your sun is about to go supernova?”

“Of course I am,” Mr. Atoz snapped, “why do you think I am the only person left on this planet?” Spock had to admit that Mr. Atoz was correct; they hadn’t been able to pick up any life signs since they had beamed down. “You will understand in enough time, Captain. Now come. We don’t have much time.”

Spock’s brows furrowed and he halted his steps, glancing to Doctor McCoy to find that he was looking back at him with an equally perplexed expression, eyebrow raised in barely masked concern. Spock’s hesitation was brief, his quick calculations had determined that the threat Mr. Atoz posed to Spock and the rest of his Starfleet crew was negligible at best.

“I’ve picked out some tapes I think you’ll enjoy, Captain Spock,” Mr. Atoz began, once Spock had settled down into the chair. Spock, though loathe to admit it, was actually curious as to what exactly Mr. Atoz was going to show him.

Spock placed the first disc inside the reader and watched with fascination as the scene began to play out in front of him, the women dancing, their dresses swirling while the men around them jousted in drunken fancy.

“Looks like something you’d enjoy, huh, Spock?” McCoy joked from behind Spock’s left shoulder.

“Clearly.” The response was dry, causing McCoy to slap his arm in, what to Spock, was an illogical show of affection between adult males. He tolerated McCoy’s actions, though barely.

The second disc was drastically different than the first; the snow covered plains spanned for miles. Spock repressed a shudder at the scene so realistic he could almost feel the cold seeping into his skin. Just as he was about to replace the disc with the final one that Mr. Atoz had picked out for him, he heard it. The scream, shrill in its force, pierced the small confines of the library. Spock sat stock still, attempting to locate where the scream had originated from.

“Spock?” McCoy asked quietly, “what’s wrong?”

“Do you not hear that, Doctor?”

“Hear what? Spock?”

That’s when Spock could hear it again, clearer this time. The sound seemed to be coming from the hallway directly behind him. He could not stand by idly. Whoever was making that sound was in serious trouble. Before McCoy or Mr. Atoz could react, Spock was up and running towards the door.

“Spock!”

“Wait!” Mr. Atoz screamed, “you are not prepared!”

Spock fell to his knees, suddenly and alarmingly dizzy. The wind was harsh, pelting strongly across Spock’s face as he fought to open his eyes. Although Spock could barely see due to the snow, he was able to make out that he had been transported to the scene that the disc had depicted in Mr. Atoz’s library.

The rapidly falling snow made it nearly impossible to see more than five feet in front of him, Spock threw out a hand, grabbing onto the side of the cliff while he struggled with frozen fingers to reach for his phaser. The rock in front of him would be perfect to heat until Spock was able to find a way back. Spock’s brows furrowed, the phaser dead and unusable in his closed palm. Wherever he was, it seemed as if something was preventing his phaser from operating.

“Captain!” Doctor McCoy’s voice bellowed, though Spock could barely hear it, despite his superior hearing. McCoy’s voice was coming from where he entered, though the space was no longer. Spock ran his fingers across the newly formed cliff side, the rocks underneath Spock’s hands were sharp and refused to give, no matter how much strength he put into it.

“Spock!” McCoy’s voice sounded again, laced with barely concealed hysteria.

“Doctor!”

“Are you alright, Spock?”

“I am fine, Doctor McCoy.” Spock answered a tad less than truthfully. He fought to stay conscious, his Starfleet regulation tunic had done nothing to mask the frigid temperature, and Spock was quickly succumbing to hypothermia.

“Can you get back through?”

Try as he might, Spock, with quickly weakening strength, was unable to reopen the portal back to the library. “I cannot,” Spock shouted. A twinge akin to fear settled uncomfortablely in his stomach.

“Dammit Spock…” McCoy swore before his voice trailed off suddenly, “hey… what are you doing?”

“Step away from the portal, Doctor McCoy,” Mr. Atoz spoke, calm and unwavering.

“Stop! No, you can’t –”

“McCoy?” Spock questioned. He could feel his control begin to slip, his precarious hold quickly being replaced with rage. He had misjudged the seemingly innocent librarian, and now Doctor McCoy was going to be the one suffering for it.

“Leonard!”

He felt the pain in his hand before his body had even registered that he was pounding futilely, yet again, at where the portal should’ve been. Without the help of the doctor, Spock was effectively stuck.

Spock’s instincts were screaming, disconcerting in their intensity. The added adrenaline was keeping the lingering blackness in his vision from completely taking over, but Spock knew he needed to get someplace warm, and fast. He couldn’t help the doctor when he wasn’t performing at optimal levels. Off in the distance Spock could still hear the screaming, though he was sure now that it was a creature instead of a human. It was the only other sign of life, and Spock was running out of time. Painstakingly, one step at a time, Spock began to make his way towards the sound.

****

The warmth was enveloping, and for a moment, if Spock didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn he was dreaming. His head was pounding, an obvious side effect of being out in the snow for so long. Snow. Spock sat up quickly, the warm animal furs falling from his body immediately. He appeared to be in a cave, safe from the pelting wind and snow, the rocks had been carved into chairs, and furs were strewn around across the cave floor.

Warm hands grasped his shoulders, easily manhandling him back to the bed. Now Spock was convinced he was dreaming. How did he get here? And who was _touching_ him? He struggled against the hands, despite how they had erased nearly every remaining feeling of coldness coursing through Spock’s body. A large fur coat, the hood hanging low and obscuring the person’s face, prevented Spock from determining whether the person beneath the fabric was a man or a woman.

The person began to shake uncontrollably, the hands strong and vibrating against Spock’s shoulders. Spock was convinced that the person was suffering from some sort of seizure before he realized that he was being laughed at.

“Something you find humorous?” Spock asked, eyebrow raised in defiance.

“Just your face,” the stranger replied, his voice laced with mirth. Spock scoffed quietly, before a fur gloved finger slowly caressed the side of his face. Spock didn’t have the energy, or the will to pull away. Something about this stranger had intrigued him.

“You find my face humorous?” Spock asked, confused.

“Just like that. I didn’t think that Vulcans pouted.”

“Vulcans do not _pout_.” He couldn’t help but touch his face just to make sure, surprised when he found that he was, indeed, contorting his facial muscles more than usual. He let his facial muscles relax, taking more effort in order to return them to his neutral state. The cold must’ve worn down his controls. He’d need to meditate.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I am merely perplexed as to how I managed to get here.”

“Nice excuse,” the man teased, and Spock had to fight to maintain control over his features. He refused to give this man any more _ammunition_ , as McCoy had explained.

“It is not an excuse. Last I remember I was looking for the source of the screaming I heard. Now I am here. With you,” Spock added.

“Screaming?” the man asked, perplexed. “Oh! I was having a little trouble catching dinner last night.” He motioned over to the table beside Spock’s head, meats of all sorts were lying on a plate. Spock found his stomach grumble, the nauseating feeling Spock usually felt while around meat was gone, instead, it was replaced by an insatiable hunger. Most unusual. “As for you,” the man continued, “I found you wandering outside, completely out of it. I helped you back here,” the man swung an arm out, “and you’ve been sleeping ever since. I was afraid that your frostbite was severe, but it looks like you’ve made a full recovery.”

“I feel much better,” Spock admitted, “I thank you for saving me.”

“Well first you pout and now you’re smiling. That’s thanks enough.”

“I find myself to be at an unfair disadvantage,” Spock found himself saying, sitting up as best he could, “as I cannot make assertions to the state of your face due to the fact that I cannot _see_ it.”

“Cheeky Vulcan,” the man said, chuckling. Spock watched him leverage himself off the bed and instantly missed the heat. He pulled the fur blanket up towards his chest and tried to prevent the cold from returning.

The man slowly started to remove his large coat, first peeling back the large hood before the rest. It revealed nothing underneath but a small piece of fabric, barely containing anything. Spock felt his face flush, and had to look away, mainly so that this stubborn individual wouldn’t find more to comment on. Spock looked back; the man’s face was startlingly familiar, his hazel eyes warm and comforting, and his hair, softly tousled and dark blonde. He realized with sudden clarity that he had seen this man before. “You are the man Doctor McCoy keeps a picture of in his office. You are Jim.”

Jim’s eyes widened, the shock clear on his face. “You know Bones?” His voice was a soft whisper, cracked and torn.

“I do,” Spock agreed, “he is my Chief Science Officer.”

“And you’re the Captain?” Jim’s voice was awed.

Spock nodded his head, “I am Spock, Captain of the U.S.S _Enterprise_.”

“Gods, to think I’d ever be able to see this day. To see Starfleet again. To see _Bones_ again. I’ve missed that man.”

The flair of jealousy was unexpected, and caused Spock to have to clench his hands against his sides. He pushed the feeling down. “Doctor McCoy does not speak of you often, I sense there is pain attached to your memory. Does he know you are here?”

“If anything, Bones thinks I’m dead, as does the rest of Starfleet.”

At Spock’s widening eyes, Jim continued. “I was Starfleet, about five years ago. I had joined a covert mission. Section 31. Top secret and high priority. I was expected to infiltrate Zor Kahn’s – ”

“Zor Kahn?” Spock interrupted, “I remember that name from the history tapes in Mr. Atoz’s library. Zor Kahn the Tyrant.”

“That’s the one,” Jim agreed, “I ended up getting mistaken for a Sarpeidon native,. When the mission failed, I was captured and exiled here. I don’t know what happened to the rest of them.”

“How did you survive here for so long?”

“Zor Kahn, along with exiling me to this godforsaken place, also had the foresight to throw in a couple of animals to keep me company.”

At the mention of food, Spock’s stomach growled again. His body was depleted and he needed food quickly. Jim picked up the tray of meat, offering it to Spock with a smile.

“Here. Eat.”

“I am a vegetarian,” Spock spoke, but already found his hand reaching towards the food. He was not himself. He barely felt remorse for the meat he was eating. In fact, his body seemed to prefer the proteins of the meat, something unheard of in post reform Vulcan. The thought triggered something in Spock’s memory, a fleeting image.

“Jim, do you know exactly which time period we are in right now?”

“Sure. Sarpeidon’s ice age. About 5000 years ago,” Jim’s eyes widened, “why?”

Spock did the calculations in his head. Sarpeidon’s ice age would have happened during the time of pre-reform Vulcan. It explained all the changes in Spock’s demeanor, including his preference for consuming meat. The longer Spock stayed here, the easier it would be for him to change back into the vicious race Vulcan’s once used to be. He needed to make a plan to get back to the present.

“We must leave.”

“What?” Jim asked, confused by Spock’s non sequitur, “Spock, what’s going on?”

“I find that I am not myself at present. The time we are in, is a time my people were once a savage beast. I must find a way back before I lose all logical and rational sense.”

Jim understood with a sharp nod of his head, but his expression quickly faltered into forlornness, “I can’t go with you.”

“Why not?”

“I was trapped here, Spock. The Atavachron portal is one-way for me. It alters the molecular structure of the body. If I try to return to my timeline, I’ll die.”

“You are sure?” Spock refused to believe that after all this time he’d have to just leave Jim here.

“Of course I am! Don’t you think I didn’t try to go back?” Jim snapped, before sinking dejectedly back onto the makeshift bed, “I _want_ to go back with you, Spock. You have no idea.”

“There must be a way to make it work.” Spock hesitated for only a moment before reaching his hand out to trace the smooth contours of Jim’s cheek. Jim didn’t move away, instead he leaned into the touch, sighing in content. Sadness and anger boiled under the surface of Jim’s skin, but just under that, _hope_.

“There is _no_ way to make it work!”

Spock felt an unfamiliar tingling in his stomach, a sensation he couldn’t control. Before he knew it, he had moved, pushing Jim down onto his back.

“Then I will stay here. With you.”

Jim’s eyes widened like saucers. “What are you talking about, Spock? That’s insane. You need to go back. People there need you!”

“And what about you, Jim?”

“I did fine on my own before you.” Jim crossed his arms against his chest, turning his head away from Spock’s.

“Liar,” Spock spat, “I can feel your emotions. Is there something you are not telling me?”

“No,” Jim forced through gritted teeth.

“Then what are you afraid of, Jim?” Spock could feel his control crumbling. His desire and need to have all of Jim was so strong he could barely think. He needed _something_ to convince Jim to fight. “Do you not feel anything towards me?”

“That’s the problem,” Jim snapped, “I feel _too_ much. It isn’t normal. We barely know each other.”

As quickly as Spock’s anger came, it disappeared. He could understand where Jim was coming from. Nothing about this situation was normal. Emotions were too strong, too out of control. Spock collapsed back down to the waiting bed, and Jim moved closer into Spock’s arms. As illogical as it was, hope was the only thing keeping both of them from breaking.

****

“Spock!” the voice was enough to snap Spock out of his reverie, and never, in his entire life, was Spock so happy to hear McCoy’s voice.

“Do you hear that, Jim?”

“Hmm?” Jim answered, his voice sleep-heavy and deep. They had been napping, or, rather, Jim had been sleeping, his hands clenched into the fur of Spock’s blanket while Spock ran every possible scenario through his head in order to find out how to be able to get Jim back through the portal.

“It’s McCoy.”

Jim reared up with a start and began pulling on his tunic. “Let’s go.”

They reached the cliff where Spock had materialized earlier after only a few short minutes, McCoy’s voice growing stronger the closer they got.

“Just follow the sound of my voice!” McCoy’s voice rang, “we don’t have much time.”

“Did you find a way to re-open the portal?”

“Yes. I’ve successfully subdued Mr. Atoz. Now come on, dammit! You’ve got three minutes until Scotty pulls the _Enterprise_ out of orbit.”

Spock turned to Jim, whose eyes were full of emotion at hearing the long lost voice of his friend. Spock pulled Jim to him. “Come back with me,” Spock demanded. Spock couldn’t explain it, had only spent a minimal amount of time with the man, but he knew Jim was important to him. To Spock and to Starfleet. And he wasn’t going to go down with a fight.

To Spock’s surprise, Jim didn’t fight him, instead he just nodded once and turned to Spock with a wide smile. “Beats staying in this freezer, right?”

Spock could do nothing but smile back.

“NOW!” McCoy yelled, and the cliff side began to glow.

Before Spock could take a step towards the open portal, Jim drew Spock’s face down to meet his, their lips dragging rough and chapped between them. Jim threw himself into the kiss, wrapping one arm around Spock’s neck and drawing him closer. Spock framed the sides of Jim’s face with his hands, their tongues meeting hesitantly, before Jim pulled away abruptly.

Spock raised an eyebrow, whether to convey shock at the kiss itself or that Jim stopped he wasn’t sure. But Jim read him like an open book. “I had to make sure it was worth it.”

“And? Was it?”

“Absolutely.”

Jim took Spock’s hand and all but pulled him into the portal.

The shiny linoleum floor was the first thing Spock saw when he opened his eyes and he immediately turned to his right. He couldn’t stop the smile from breaking across his face at the sight of Jim kneeling beside him.

“Jesus Christ Sp – ” McCoy choked, finally catching sight of Jim on the floor. “Jim?”

At the sound of his name, Jim snapped his head up, smile wide and genuine. “Miss me, Bones?”

McCoy’s face was an alarming shade of red. Spock would have to inquire into the doctor’s cardiovascular health once they were safely aboard the _Enterprise_ once again.

But for now. “Three to beam up. Energize.”

END


End file.
